Slave Trade - Stabled
Stabled copyright 2012 comidacomida
The first sense that returned to Sidney upon him regaining consciousness was the sense of pain coming from his shoulder. The fox managed to move just enough to roll to the side, feeling the sticky sensation of half-dried blood on his fur; his snap-flay wounds had reopened. He let out a faint groan and firm paws stilled him, albeit, on his side instead of his back.
"Ye got wounds opened again." a deep voice spoke to him with the accent of a Meisenylian, and it took Sidney a moment to place it. Opening his eyes, the fox paused as his blurry vision cleared and he found himself looking up into the neutral expression of a yak.
"Dorias?" Sidney questioned.
"Ye know my name." the yak observed.
"Master Hector says names are important." the fox stated, pausing to raise a paw to his head, "Ow..."
"Ye took a spill at the circle." Dorias explained, "Master 'ector had me take ye back 'ere."
Sidney was about to ask where 'here' was, but, on his next breath, the fox inhaled deeply, recognizing the old-dust-stale-hay-rotten-wood scent of the slave stables. "Thank you." the fox offered meekly.
"When Wragol said ye 'adn' been a slave master fer long... but 'e didn' bother sayin ye don't know 'ow t'act like one." the yak observed neutrally, squeezing some herbal-smelling fluid out a square of cloth before gently applying it to the fox's wounds.
Sidney was ready to recoil from the touch but the ache suddenly grew numb, and Dorias was able to tend to it without any extensive flare-ups of pain, "What do you mean?" the fox questioned of the yak's comment.
"Ye don't say 'thank ye' t' slaves, Sidney... ye be a slave master now." Dorias' neutral expression offered just the hint of a smile.
"Oh..." the fox nodded, ears drooping just a little, "Sorry."
Dorias' smile grew wider, "An' ye certainly don't owe a slave an apology."
"I guess I still have a lot to learn." Sidney acknowledged, and, with the yak's help, managed to sit up. he flexed his arm and offered his shoulder a faint shrug. He turned to Dorias to thank him for his help, but he suddenly paused, and cleared out his throat, saying instead, "Lord Sidney said that the slaves Wragol was supervising are my responsibility now?"
"Lord 'ector decided t'distribute most o' Wragol's slaves t; other slave masters 'andlin' field work." the yak answered, cleaning up the healing supplies he had been using, "'e assigned myself, Choel, and Uraou to ye."
"The three of you who came to the circle?" Sidney questioned.
"Aye." Dorias nodded, "Seems 'e gave ye run o' his gladiator stables." The yak had continued talking, but the rest of it made little sense as the fox found himself once again confronted with a faint.
* * * * * *
Sidney's next brush into consciousness was much more comfortable to ease into. The fox's shoulder did not hurt nearly as much, but he started developing a headache mere seconds after he sat up. The stall around him was dimly lit by late afternoon sun, but the main cause of the pounding in his head was a loud pounding in the stall; somewhere nearby there was a mallet striking wood. Sidney tested his sense of balance and, finding that he could stand, he moved out of the stall and into the central area of the stables where what he saw surprised him.
Uraou, the cave bear who had been at the ring, was standing on top of a set of crates, one foot per box. He had several large wooden pegs sticking out of the side of his muzzle. The hammering, which had stopped, continued right after the bear had another peg pulled from his lips and set against one of the boards of the overhead beams... and the pounding continued, both on the wood, and in the fox's head.
"Sid-ney..." the fox heard Maern's unmistakable baritone, and the horse was near him in a moment, reaching out a large hamfist to rest it on his unwounded shoulder, "Sid-ney good?" the stallion asked.
"My head hurts." the fox admitted, "But I'm fine, I guess." Sidney looked up into Maern's face and he winced, taking note of the bandage wrapped around the horse's head, "You got hit pretty hard..."
"Prit-tee hahrd." the stallion parroted back.
Uraou stopped the hammering, and Sidney could feel the bear's eyes on him. The bear spoke up, "Dorias is seein; to Choel, sir... we're fixing what we can ta stay busy."
Sidney recognized the bear's accent immediately, "You're from Diermyna..."
"Heard you were too." the bear acknowledged, "bloody doesn't sound like it though, pardon me sayin'... ya sound Prossian, through an' through."
Sidney smiled at Uraou's matter-of-fact tone, "I came here when I was very young... I've spent most of my life in Pross."
"Uraou came here almost twenty years ago." Dorias noted, emerging from a back stall with a satchel of healing goods slung over one ample-sized shoulder, "But 'e still hasn' lost 'is accent."
"Yea, mate," the bear acknowledged, "well I hear tell ya practically grew up here but somehow ya still talk like a bloody Meisenylian."
"It was,' a critique, Uraou, just an' observation." the yak offered amiably.
"You were helping Choel?" Sidney interrupted the discussion, and both slaves fell silent at him addressing them.
"Aye, Sir." Dorias acknowledged respectfully, "Should be fine ina few days, but when ye get a shoulder popped all outta joint the 'ealin' doesn't always go so fast."
The fox nodded thoughtfully at the comment, then suddenly a question came to mind, "How do you know so much about healing?" It felt strange for the fox that he could be so free with the inquiries; it almost made him giddy.
"My sire an' dame were village 'ealers in Meisenyl... got picked up by soldiers durin' a raid back in the war. They earned a livin' workin' as 'ealers for th' Prossian army, but eventually they got sold. I lived with em 'bout ten years so I 'ad a chance t'pick up a few things." he shrugged casually.
"I don't really remember my parents." the fox admitted, then glanced around at all of the eyes on him, suddenly feeling very intimidated by all the attention, "Um... go ahead and keep doing... um... stuff." he waved them away.
"Yes, Sir." Dorias and Uraou acknowledged in unison; Maern just kept staring.
"Are you alright, Maern?" Sidney asked; the stallion's head bandage covered one ear completely while the second, along with a few errant lengths of mane snuck out between the folds. The fox found the look fetching, in a way.
"Ahl-rite..." the horse repeated the word. "Maern good." he nodded faintly. "Fine." he added.
"Your head?" Sidney pointed to the bandages.
"Good." the horse acknowledged, "Fine."
"What about your ribs?" the fox motioned to the tightly wound cloth around the stallion's midsection.
"Herts?" Maern tried the word out, "Head herts?"
Sidney couldn't help but smile a little, "No, Maern... head..." he pointed to his own head, then rested a paw on his own side, "Ribs."
The stallion blinked once, "Head, ahl-rite...." he touched a thick finger against the bandages at his temple, then moved his hand down to rest against his side, "Ribs herts."
"Ribs hurt." Sidney clarified.
"Ribs hurrt." Maern corrected himself. "Head, ahl-rite... ribs hurt."
"Good." the fox smiled.
"Maern..." Dorias spoke up from the other side of the stable, "Fehhis uh lavf." the words were unfamiliar to Sidney, but he recognized them as Vensian, and they were spoken with courtesy, but they held an air of a request.
"Iya." the stallion acknowledged, and left the building.
"How do you know Vensian?" sidney asked the yak.
"Before I belonged t' Lord 'ector I was owned by an old librarian." Dorias stated. The yak set the healing bag down by the rest of the supplies, "'e wanted t' have someone that was big enough t' keep people from causin a problem for 'im, but 'e didn' want someone stupid... so, in 'is spare time 'e taught me."
"He taught you Vensian?" the fox asked, astounded.
"'e taught me t' read." the yak elaborated, "An' then made sure that I spent time every day doin' just that."
"Slaves aren't supposed to read." Sidney pointed out one of the longest-standing rules he knew.
"Aye..." Dorias sighed, "which is why, when 'e died, the folks settlin' 'is estate decided I was gonna be put down..."
"But you weren't..." the fox observed.
"Lord 'ector bought me offa th' wagon..." the yak nodded, "paid em good money an' told em that 'e needed more slaves for field work." he turned to look at Sidney, "Wouldn' be alive if not fer 'im."
Sidney paused thoughtfully, "But if Lord Hector knew you could read and had all of these great skills, why didn't he use you for something else?"
"Lord 'ector's an owner, aye... but 'e can't just do anything 'e wants.
"Lord Hector's a Lord... he can do anything." Sidney objected.
"Not always, Sir." Dorias shook his head, "Just like slaves 'ave their place in th' world, so do owners... an' even lords. Lord 'ector has to act a certain way an' follow certain rules... that's probably why 'e's finally decided t'have gladiators."
Something suddenly clicked for the fox, "Is that why he had to have that collie slave here the other day?"
"Aye," Dorias acknowledged, "That was one o' Lord Levid's slave masters... they're 'is eyes an' ears all over Pross... they make sure all o' th' slave owners follow th' rules that Lord Levid puts on em..."
"Why did Lord Levid send someone to look in on Lord Hector?" the fox asked, "I'm sure he follows all the rules."
The yak chuckled, "Less than ye might think, Sir." and he cleared his throat, speaking a little more seriously, "Aye, Lord 'ector treats all o' 'is slaves well, but a lot a other owners say 'e's too nice... Lord Levid watches him REAL close."
The fur all along Sidney's back began to stand up, "You think that's why he's getting gladiators?"
"From what I know about Lord 'ector, 'e 'ates the idea a slaves battlin' each other..." the yak nodded thoughtfully, gotta be SOME reason he's doin it."
Sidney took in a deep breath then slowly let it out, "Well... it doesn't matter WHY he's doing it... he put me in charge, and I--" the fox paused as Maern came back into the tables carrying a large barrel on his back, "Maern!" the slave master objected.
"Sir." the stallion acknowledged.
"What are you DOING?" the fox demanded.
"Sir, I 'ad 'im get extra supplies... 'ealing balm, bandages, unguent an' the like." Dorias spoke up, "Lord 'ector knows ye'll need a lot more than a small kit."
"A whole BARREL full?" Sidney asked incredulously.
"Lord 'ector had it ready for us." the yak explained, "I think 'e expects you to keep everyone in th' best o' 'ealth." and he began to sort through the barrel as Maern stepped away.
"I'm just glad that you and Maern can understand each other." the fox noted, his tail swishing in relief as he spoke.
"'e looks like 'e's learnin Prossian pretty quick." Dorias observed, then regarded Maern, "Maern... conis utz Prossiani, iya?"
"Iya, Dorias." the stallion acknowledged, then looked to Sidney, "Yes."
"Do..." the fox rubbed one paw against another as he looked at Dorias, "Do you think you could teach me a little Vensian?"
The yak turned and regarded the fox, the supplies in the barrel forgotten for the moment, "An' ye sure that be wise?"
Sidney paused at that, "It isn't?"
"When ye be in Pross ya gotta speak Prossian." Dorias stated the well-known phrase, "May as well 'ave him learn as fast as 'e can... why ye wanna learn any Vensian?"
The fox blushed beneath his fur a she gave a noncommital shrug, "I just thought it'd be easier on him a little."
The yak smirked a little at the gesture, "Givin' thought t'th' slaves, are ya?" he chuckled softly, "Maybe Lord 'ector's onta somethin' in ye."
Something about the observation sounded far too much like praise for Sidney to not identify it, and he felt a little giddy at the thought that Dorias saw something in him that Lord Hector might have, "I hope so." the fox noted.
Dorias nodded, going back to the healing supplies. "We can hope so t'gether."
* * * * * *
Sidney awoke the following morning far more refreshed than he thought he would be. The fox sat up on the blanket he had laid across the fresh hay that made up his bedding and, mindful of his injured shoulder, he stretched. Sidney was surprised at how well he could move; Dorias' healing touch had apparently done far more than the fox could have accomplished on his own.
Taking a moment to inspect himself, the fox slowly peeled away the bandages, mindful of his fur and the scab sticking to the cloth. Though he couldn't see the majority of the wound across his back, the small amount he was able to look at appeared much less inflamed and the skin looked much healthier. He jumped in surprise at Maern's voice, "Sid-ney good?" the stallion asked quietly.
"A lot better, yea." the fox nodded, "My shoulder doesn't feel as--" then he paused, looking at Maern's patient expression. Sidney cleared his throat, "Yes. Good." he blushed a little, "How are you, Maern?" he asked, "Are you good?"
"Good." Maern acknowledged, pointing to his head and Sidney realized that the horse's bandage was gone. He then moved the hand to his ribs, "Herts."
A thought suddenly occurred to Sidney, "What about your back?" he asked, twirling his finger in the air. Maern looked at him curiously, at which point the fox pointed to his own back, "Your back... back..." he pointed again."
"Good." the stallion stated, then rolled his shoulder, "Herts..." he used the words simply and casually, but Sidney could tell that the horse would have liked to explain it further.
"Sit." Sidney directed, pointing to his blanket.
Maern observed the fox for a moment, "Whut ab'out yore bak?"
Sidney sighed, and turned around, "It's fine... see?" and he started to turn back around, but the stallion's huge hands clamped down on the smaller fox, and he felt Maern's warm breath blow against the fur on his back as the horse examined him.
"Good." the stallion acknowledged, then obediently went to take a seat on the fox's blanket.
Sidney knelt down behind the horse, taking a moment to check on Myrne's wounds; they were healing well. The fox had to ask, "Did Dorias help you too?"
"Dorias?" the stallion asked, obviously focusing on the word he knew best.
"Dorias..." Sidney repeated, lightly touching the horse's back, and then he reached forward to offer Myrne a bandage.
"Iya--" the horse cleared his throat, "Yes... Dorias... yes."
Sidney recalled that there were six separate stalls in the stables, and between himself, Myrne, Dorias, Choel, and Uraou, five were spoken for-- that one of them would be both a healer and able to speak Vensian was something he knew he should thank his lucky stars for nightly, "Well... at least THAT is something I can say is going well." he said, not concerned in the least that the stallion was unable to understand him.
The fox finished up his inspection of the stallion and then quickly rewrapped his shoulder. Although Sidney was ready to call it good, Myrne refused to let him leave before the fox was subjected to a similar review by the horse and was likewise rebandaged. "You really don't take no for an answer, do you, Myrne?" he inquired of the slave.
"'e probably would if ye knew the Vensian word for it." Dorias spoke up from outside the stall.
"Moa dun, Dorias." Maern spoke calmly, standing up from his position looming over the fox.
"Moa dun, Maern." the yak responded, then opened the stall door, "Good morning, Sir." he greeted the fox.
"Moa dun?" Sidney asked Dorias, following Maern out of the stall.
"It means good morning." the slave explained simply.
"So Moa is 'good' and 'dun' is morning?" the fox dissected the words.
"Nay..." Dorias countered, "in Vensian what ye be talkin' about comes first, an' what describes it comes second... which means the direct translation o' 'Moa dun' is 'Morning good'."
"That's..." Sidney paused, searching for the right word to use, "strange." He looked to the yak, who was looking back at him.
"It's strange because ye not be used ta it, Sir." Dorias pointed out, "If ye be wantin' ta learn another language ye need t'be open minded 'bout it."
"Does that mean you'll teach me Vensian?" the fox asked, feeling his tail swish in optimism.
"Just like Maern will listen when ye tell 'im 'no', I'll do what ye tell me, Sir... that's what slaves do when their slave master tells em." the yak explained.
"I'm still learning how to be a slave master." Sidney admitted, though he realized that it went without saying.
"Doin' better than Wragol did so far." the fox heard Uraou's unmistakably snide comment.
"That's because ye went through a whole day without gettin' inta trouble with Sidney." Dorias was quick to point out, "Getting to avoid a few lashes'll make anyone a little 'appier about a new change."
Something about the yak's comment suddenly gave Sidney a moment's pause, "What if..." he quieted when all eyes were on him again, "Do you think... did Lord Hector choose me as your slave master because he thinks I won't punish you?"
Dorias shrugged, "It's 'ard t'say what Lord 'ector thinks... not only is 'e a smart man, 'e also thinks like a Lord, an' we don't."
"Well, as far as I have any say, if he DID choose you for us for that reason then he's bloody brilliant." Uraou noted, "if you're not takin' a lash to me every day I'll work twice as hard ta keep you as my slave master."
Sidney paused, aghast, "I'd never lash anyone."
"Just snap-flay?" Uraou questioned flatly.
"I--" the fox paused.
"Slave Masters 'ave their own sets of rules they follow, Sir." Dorias spoke up, motioning Uraou away with a gesture, "Th' time might come when ye might do somethin' ye don' wanna do. No matter what, ye still be a slave, an' that means ye do what ye gotta do."
"If Lord Hector orders me to, well, of course..." Sidney acknowledged, "...but I hope he doesn't... not again... not ever again..." the fox sighed.
* * * * * *
Sidney and his slaves were left to their own devices that day. Much more coherent, the fox had the opporutnity to oversee the continued repairs of the dilapidated stables. Dorias, who had been the foreman for the prior day's work turned out to be just as capable a laborer. Between Uraou, Myrne, and the yak, they accomplished several major projects around the building before mid-day and, in the afternoon, they were joined by Choel.
The black-and-white tiger was very cautious at first, careful of any movement or motion of his shoulders. He kept the majority of his attention on Myrne, and Sidney could tell that the tiger wasn't sure what to think about working alongside the stallion who was responsible for his sprained arms. Choel remained guarded for much of the day, but, just before the sun started setting, Sidney was able to see the tiger get a little more verbose.
"Hold up that side." Choel directed as three of the slaves lifted a beam, "Hey... you..." he spoke to Maern, "Move further to the end." The stallion, not understanding the direction, simply hefted the entire length of wood by himself, "Or you could just do that." Choel stated flatly.
"Brings some perspective to what he COULD have done to your arms if he wanted to, eh mate?" Uraou questioned the tiger.
"You'll have reason to talk after that huge bruise at the end of your muzzle Dorias gave you goes away." the tiger countered, gingerly picking up a bucket of wooden pitons.
"What bruise?" the bear demanded.
Choel looked at Urauo then paused, "Oh..." he grinned, "That's just your big fat nose."
"Hey!" Sidney spoke up, affronted by the posturing, "Enough of that... I don't want any of you fighting."
The bear and the tiger looked at one another and smirked, "Yes, sir." the both acknowledged the fox, and Sidney was left feeling like he missed something.
"so he IS new..." Choel spoke up.
"Aye." Dorias acknowledged.
"Yea." Uraou agreed.
Myrne questioned the yak in Vensian, who responded in kind.
"You'd better get him out of that habit." Choel noted, "Lord Hector won't be happy if he--"
"He knows, Choel, thank you." Dorias interrupted him.
"What does Lord Hector know?" the stag's voice spoke up from the doorway to the stables.
"Lord Hector!" Sidney noted immediately, feeling a sudden shiver of fear wash through him; was he being too lax on his slaves that he allowed them to talk about their Master so casually? Was Lord Hector mad? WAs Sidney in trouble? He lowered his head immediately but, remembering his new place, did not fall to his knees. Around him, Dorias, Uraou, and finally Choel went down to their knees, palms on the ground as they prostrated themselves. Next to him, Sidney was aghast that Maern only went down to one knee, kneeling rather than a full-body bow.
"And what is it your slaves are discussing this evening, Sidney?" the stag questioned, casually strolling through the stables to stand right in front of the fox.
"We were discussing Maern, Master." Sidney noted, looking straight at the hart's chest.
"Do your slaves believe that I do not handle him effectively, Sidney?" Lord Hector inquired.
"It is not their place to question you, Master." the fox stated without hesitation.
"Whether it is their place or not has no bearing on whether or not they do it, Sidney." the stag countered, and slid a finger underneath the fox's chin, raising it up and forcing the slave master to look him in the eye, "If you let your slaves speak so casually then it should be because you care about their opinions..." he stared critically at him, "Do you care about their opinions, Sidney?"
"I....?" the fox asked, keeping a faint whine of uncertainty from his voice.
The stag glanced around at the rest of the slaves in the stables before his eyes settled on Maern. They slid slowly back to Sidney after that, "There isn't a wrong answer." Lord Hector finally clarified, "So that's for you to decide... and you should consider it soon, because that is the basis of your style as a Slave Master." the stag's gaze turned critical again, "and if you plan on being a good slave master then you develop a good style."
"Yes, Master."
"You DO want to be a good Slave Master, don't you, Sidney?" Lord Hector questioned.
"Yes, Master. Of course!" the fox agreed emphatically.
"Good." the stag acknowledged, reaching out to give Sidney a pat on his uninjured shoulder, "I'm glad to hear that."
"I would never let you down, Master." Sidney added.
"I know you wouldn't, Sidney." the stag's confident smile warmed the fox the whole way through, "Which is why I am going to need your help tonight."
"Anything, Master." the fox stated without hesitation.
"Good." Lord Hector nodded neutrally, and then he glanced around the stables, "You've done some good work here so far."
"Thank you, Master." Sidney accepted the praise, his tail swishing unrestrained.
"I'm wondering if you'll be as good handling slaves in less ideal situations." the stag's tone grew even more solemn.
"Master?" the fox spoke Lord Hector's title as much like a question as he dared.
"I would like you to get your slave settled for the night once you finish your project."
"Of course, Master." Sidney agreed immediately, a wave of relief washing over him that his master's request wasn't anything unexpected.
"And once they are taken care of I want you to meet me by the work shed." the stag added.
"Yes Master." the fox acknowledged. If Lord Hector wanted to meet him at the shed then that meant--
"I will need you to assist me with a problem I'm having with a slave." the stag said the words with a severity that left Sidney speechless.
"At the work shed." the slave master finally reiterated.
"Exactly." Lord Hector confirmed, "There's something inside that will help with the problem, and my expectation is that it will be more beneficial to have you there than otherwise... normally I would ask Finneas to help me, but this should be the perfect chance for you to prove yourself." the stag observed him for a moment, "Am I wrong in my assessment?"
If Lord Hector planned to involve the work shed then it meant only one thing: the Sardassi. The fox had experienced far too much of the machine already and he was in no hurry to see it ever again, but, more than that, he realized that he could not disappoint Lord Hector. Sidney slowly shook his head, somehow managing to croak out the words, "No, Master... you are never wrong."
"I'm glad to hear that, Sidney." the stag offered a smile that would have calmed him in any other situation. "Tharis has been a very valuable member of my herd for a number of years, and I'm hoping you can help me remedy the situation." Several gasps from the other slaves in the stables left Sidney even more concerned, but he was left with few options.
He fought to keep his tail from curling between his legs, "I will be there, as you command."